Out of Mind (2 page)

I sighed and slid out of Dad’s car, waving at the security dude who got out of his car. He’d wanted to ride with me, but I’d wanted to be alone, so he’d followed me to the store, where I’d wandered around aimlessly. “Finn: Part Two” I liked to call him in my head. Dad had placed a detail on me again, and even though I hated it, I let it slide.

At least he was letting Finn stay at the house.

His room might be on the complete opposite side of the house from my room, sure, but it was something. And it was only temporary. Christmas was coming up, and then we would go home right before New Year’s. After that, we’d be fine. And if I kept saying that, maybe it would be true. Finn tried to act normal. He held me close and told me he loved me.

But he wasn’t
Finn
.

I opened the front door and blinked. Every single light was on downstairs, and laughter came from the living room. Christmas music played in the formal sitting room, and I could hear my mother on the phone, talking quietly. I was pretty sure I heard my name, so I decided not to go in there. Instead, I’d follow the laughter because I recognized it. It made my whole body tingle and go warm. It was Finn.

Laughing. Actually
laughing
.

I crept into the room, my breath held. My dad, the same man who told me he didn’t want Finn and me together, was sitting next to Finn, laughing his butt off at something Finn had apparently just told him. Finn lounged back against the cushions, his casted arm resting against his chest with the help of a sling. He was laughing, too, those blue eyes shining.

So. He’d been drinking again. It’s the only time he laughed anymore. He held a mostly empty glass of whiskey in his good hand, and the wound crossing his forehead and creeping into his shaved scalp gave him a ragged appearance. Kinda piratical. All he needed was a hoop earring and some buckskin pants. It was hot. His black tattoos stood out against his paler-than-normal skin, and his dimples were shining full force. He looked happy—normal, even. I knew better.

It was the alcohol talking.

Finn’s dad, Larry, was also there, but he wasn’t laughing. He was watching Finn with the same concern I felt. The same undying certainty that all was not quite perfect under that flawless smile and never-give-up attitude he kept showing to the world.

“Did that actually happen?” Larry asked, smiling when Finn looked at him. Playing the part, just like me. Was that how I looked? Scared when Finn wasn’t looking, and perfectly content when he was? I had a feeling I did. “Or are you making that up?”

I came more into the room, forcing a smile. “What did I miss?”

Dad stood up and held his arms open, a grin still on his lips. “Griffin here was just telling me a story about his buddy from overseas. He was apparently scared of spiders.”

“Really?” I hugged Dad. Crossing the room, I bent down, kissed Larry’s forehead, and squeezed his hand. Last, but not least, I turned to Finn. “What kind of big, scary fighter is scared of spiders?”

Finn’s smile slipped for a fraction of a second. He lifted his glass to his lips, drained it, and smiled up at me as if he didn’t spend half the night pacing in his room instead of sleeping. As if he didn’t wake up screaming every night.

As if I didn’t know all about it.

“That’s what we said to him,” he said lightly. “But he was. We found that out one night, for sure.”

I sat down beside Finn, resting my hand on his knee. He had one leg bent over the other, so it was the perfect snuggling position. He wrapped his good arm around me, his gaze shifting to my dad before he hugged me close. When he held me like this, I almost believed the façade he showed the world. Almost believed we were okay.

“Did you put one on his pillow to mess with him?” Dad asked.

He was being polite, but now that I was here, next to Finn, I could hear the tension in his voice. He didn’t approve, but he knew forbidding it wouldn’t work, so he was being quiet…for now. I couldn’t help but wonder how long that silence would last.

“I did,” Finn admitted, a side of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided grin. “When he came into the room, I laid there as if I didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on.”

Larry shook his head. “I’m sure he was pissed when he saw the beast on his bed.”

“He screamed like a little girl.” Finn’s hand flexed on my shoulder. He gave a long, hard look at the empty glass on the table before turning back to his dad. “That was the second to last day we were there. He didn’t sleep the whole night.”

Which meant the next day, the guy Finn was talking about had been killed. And Finn had watched it happen. My heart twisted, and I looked up at him. He stared off into the distance, his brow furrowed. He looked lost. I wished I could find him.

Dad cleared his throat. “And that was that.”

“Yes, that was that,” Finn rasped. He seemed to shake himself, and then he was back on earth again. “He was scared to surf, too. I told him I’d teach him sometime.”

“You’re an excellent teacher,” I said.

“Wait.” Dad sat up straighter. “How would you know how good of a surfing teacher he may or may not be?”

I froze. “Uh…”

Finn closed his eyes and sighed. “I taught her.”

“You did
what
?” He rose to his feet, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “Griffin Coram, I’ll have your skin for—”

“Dad.” I glowered at him. “In the scheme of things, do you really think it’s that big of a deal? I’m obviously okay.”

“
Obviously
okay?” Dad sputtered. “I…he…you…” He cut off. “Argh.”

Finn cleared his throat and made as if to rise. “I think that’s my cue to grab another whiskey.”

“I’ll get it.” Dad looked at me. “I need the fresh air.”

Once my dad left, Finn looked at me and smiled, his blue eyes softening as they usually did when he looked at me. I ran my hand over his head, smiling back at him in return. I used to play with his hair. I missed that. “Oops,” I said. “My bad.”

“He was bound to find out eventually. Might as well be now,” Finn said, reaching out to tug a strand of my hair. “Where’d you go earlier?”

“I picked up your medicine.” I reached into my purse and put his bottle of pain pills on the coffee table. I’d be keeping a close watch on how many disappeared. “Remember? I told you before I left.”

“I must’ve forgotten.” He ran a hand down his face. “Sorry.”

He’d been forgetting a lot of things lately. I wasn’t sure if it was from the pills, the booze, or the injury. Maybe a combination of all three. Either way, it kind of freaked me out. “It’s okay. Maybe I was wrong and I forgot to tell you.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Either way, I’m glad you’re back now.”

Larry stood up. He looked a little bit pale and unsteady. I started to rise, but he shook his head. Finn looked over at him, and Larry gave him a smile. “I’m going to crash early tonight, son. I’m exhausted.”

Finn studied him. “You feeling all right, Dad?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” Larry said, shaking his head and chuckling. “Don’t you worry about me. You worry about you.”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “You look pale. Are you getting sick again?”

“No, not again.” Larry headed for the door without looking back. “Good night.”

When Finn started to stand, I tugged him back down. “Let him go. He’s tired. You can talk to him in the morning.”

Finn tensed. “Something’s wrong, and he’s not telling me. Do you know what it is?”

I was pretty sure Finn’s father wasn’t doing well. I
thought
it might be something to do with his heart, but I’d never gotten it confirmed. “I don’t. I have my suspicions, like you,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We’ll talk to him together in the morning, okay? Not now.”

He nodded and let out a sigh. “You’re right. But don’t let me forget to talk to him tomorrow. Promise you’ll remind me.”

I swallowed hard. “I promise.” I rested my hand against his cheek, trying to enjoy the moment. “How’s the head feeling tonight?”

He met my eyes, relaxing under my touch. “It hurts,” he admitted. “A lot.”

“Have you had any more pills since I left?”

He shook his head but didn’t meet my eyes. “Nope.”

“Okay.” I hesitated before grabbing his pills. For what had to be the millionth time, I said, “But you’ve been drinking. You’re not supposed to mix—”

“They just say that shit to scare you. I’m fine.” His hand shook as he took the bottle from me. He seemed to remember he couldn’t open it with one hand, so he held it back out. “Can you help me?”

“Of course.” I opened the bottle and poured out a pill, wishing I hadn’t asked him how his head felt. I’d had to beg to get a refill for him, since it was a full day too early. “You’re not supposed to mix them, and you know it.”

“I don’t give a damn, and
you
know it.” He took a deep breath. With a small grimace, he popped the medicine into his mouth. After he swallowed, he gave me a long, hard look. “I’m fine, Carrie. Don’t worry.”

I froze, the lid half on. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

“I watch you all the time. You always look worried, unless you see me watching. Then you laugh and smile.” He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb over my lip. “I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll get through this.”

I wished that was true. “I’m not worried about that.”

“I know,” he said, his tone playful despite the shadows I could see in his eyes. The ones that chased him every night no matter how fast he ran. “I’ve got you. What more could I possibly need?”

I leaned in and brushed my mouth across his. He tasted like alcohol. “Nothing,” I whispered against his lips.

His good hand flexed on my thigh. “Careful. Your dad’s coming back any second now.”

“He knows about us. Why worry about a kiss?”

“He knows, but he doesn’t like it.” He leaned back against the couch. “And he definitely doesn’t want to see us kissing in his living room.” He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly. When he opened his eyes, all signs of tension dissipated. “We won’t be here much longer, and then we can go back to normal. We’ll be back in California, and I’ll be back to annoying you twenty-four-seven.”

I smiled, knowing that was what he wanted from me. He loved to make me happy, after all. “I know. I can’t wait.”

“And, hey, at least I’m home for Christmas. We didn’t think I would be.” His mouth twisted, and he fingered my sun necklace. “We even celebrated early and everything.”

I thought back on the night Finn had created Christmas for me. We’d decorated a tree, shared a romantic dinner, and spent the night in each other’s arms. It had been the last time we made love, and the last time I’d seen him
really
smile.

“I know. It was lovely.” I kissed him one more time, keeping it short. “Maybe the actual Christmas will be even better. I’ll get to show you the present I got for you.”

He ran his free hand over his shaved head, touching the shiny, puckered wound. It started at the corner of his eye and then extended to the back of his skull. I knew he was self-conscious about it, but he shouldn’t have been. He was gorgeous as always. “I don’t think it will top our other one. I can’t even use my fucking arm, and we won’t be alone. There won’t be any hot holiday sex to finish off the night.”

“Oh, I think you could do plenty of damage with just the one arm,” I teased, running my hand over his chest. I placed my palm right over the spot where he’d gotten our tattoo. “And if not, well, you can still hold me. That’s all I need to be happy. Your arms around me, and us together. Fighting the world as a team.”

“You and me against the world, right?” Meeting my eyes hesitantly, he looked down at where my hand rested. His were blazing with heat, desire, and love. He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, taking a shaky breath. “I love you so fucking much, Carrie.”

My heart melted and I blinked back tears. This was the first time he was acting like my Finn, and it was breaking my heart. “I know. I love you, too.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” His fingers moved to the back of my head, cradling me and holding me closer. “I hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“You won’t.” I pulled back and smiled at him, trying to show him there was nothing—
nothing
—he could do to send me running. “We’ve been over this before. I’m not going anywhere.”

He drew in a ragged breath. “I didn’t deserve you when I was whole, and I definitely don’t deserve you now, looking like Frankenstein’s monster.”

“
Finn
.” I ran my hand over his head, scowling at him. “Don’t you ever say that again. You’re perfect. We’re perfect.” I lightly kissed the spot where his injury started. “And a few scrapes isn’t going to ruin that. You’re as hot as ever.”

He let out a small sound and caught my mouth with his. It was the first time
he
kissed
me
since he came home. Every other time, I’d been the one initiating it, and he’d been pushing me away. He always had a good reason for doing so, but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. He was pushing me away, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him.

Footsteps approached, and my dad came into the living room. Finn let go of me as if I were diseased and stood shakily. Dad handed him a drink and looked at me. He scanned my face, his brows lowered. Finn took the drink and inclined his head. “Thank you, sir. If you don’t mind, I’ll take this up to my room. I just took a pill, and I’ll be tired soon.”

I stood up. “I’ll come and—”

“No. I’m fine.” Finn offered me a smile, but the real smile I’d gotten earlier was gone. In its place was the one I’d gotten all too used to. “Spend time with your dad. I’ll see you in the morning when the sun’s shining nice and bright. Maybe we can go out to breakfast.”

I watched him go. He snatched up an entire bottle of whiskey off the side table as he passed it, and walked out into the hallway. He was going to drink himself to sleep again. He’d still wake up screaming, though. I knew it and so did he. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’d forgotten about his night terrors.

I hadn’t.

I took a step after him, planning on ripping it out of his hands, but Dad grabbed my arm. “Let him go. He needs some time alone,” Dad said, reaching out and squeezing my hand. “I don’t like you two together, and you know that, but I’m telling you this much for your own sake. He needs time and space to accept what happened to him over there, and you need to give it to him. Let him drink. Let him sleep. He’ll come out of it.”